Oh! little loveliest lady mine,What shall I send for your valentine?Summer and flowers are far away;Gloomy old Winter is king to-day;Buds will not blow, and sun will not shine: What shall I do for a valentine?I ’ve searched the gardens all through and throughFor a bud to tell of my love so true;But buds are asleep, and blossoms are dead And the snow beats down on my poor little head.

laura elizabeth richards                              

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